


from cold to fire

by pessimisticprose



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Some angst, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 00:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4458104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pessimisticprose/pseuds/pessimisticprose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He leaves the little shop without a ring, only a great fantasy of how Enjolras’ gold buttons on his red jacket would look lovely with a gold ring on his finger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	from cold to fire

**Author's Note:**

> hi again i swear I'm alive (cue n2n fans) 
> 
> anyway, title comes from Pablo Neruda's I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You, which is wonderful when you're trash at titles like me i recommend 
> 
> pls enjoy the fic

Really, it starts as a joke. He’d been boxing with Bahorel one day, trying to get back into the sport after several months off because of multiple concussions, when Bahorel practically flopped down beside him on the bench and asked, “So, when ya gonna pop the question?” Grantaire almost choked on his water, and Bahorel had to pat his back for a minute until Grantaire calmed down enough to try to formulate an answer.

Maybe that’s why he’s in the small family-owned jewelry shop a few miles from their apartment, glancing around for anything Enjolras might like. It’s more of a pipe dream at this point. Enjolras has never voiced any desire to marry anyone, let alone Grantaire. They’re been dating for three years now, and Grantaire’s pretty sure that it would’ve crashed by now if ever, but the real worry is not how long they’ve been dating, it’s what Enjolras wants.

He leaves the little shop without a ring, only a great fantasy of how Enjolras’ gold buttons on his red jacket would look lovely with a gold ring on his finger.

***

Enjolras loves to assure their friends that marriage isn’t always the only option, especially when Marius stresses about getting Cosette a ring. “There are commitment ceremonies, civil unions, domestic partnerships–“

“Yes, Enjolras, but Cosette wants to get married and I want to marry Cosette,” Marius snaps. He huffs and rolls his eyes. “Just because you don’t want to get married doesn’t mean others don’t want to.”

Enjolras’ eyes blaze. “That’s not what I _meant_. I was just trying to put things into perspective for you.”

“Can we please get back to planning Jehan’s birthday party?” Feuilly asks, voice snide.

“Yes, yes of course,” Combeferre says. “Thank you, Feuilly.” They all launch back into planning Jehan’s surprise, while Grantaire loses some of his enthusiasm. He sips his water and messes around with his sketch book. He keeps a different book for drawing of each friend, so he’ll just slap a bow on Jehan’s and gift it to him. He loses track of their planning.

***

Grantaire is asked to be a groomsman for Marius, with the excuse that Cosette can’t exactly ask him to be her maid of honor. Courfeyrac and Grantaire are the two groomsmen, while the role of best man firmly goes to Courfeyrac. They plan him a wonderful bachelor party and the wedding dawns to a sunny day, with the crisp autumn wind blowing.

“Marius is freaking out,” Grantaire tells Enjolras, who’s helping Grantaire tie his bowtie outside of the males’ designated dressing area. Cosette wanted everything to be as traditional as possible, so they haven’t seen each other at all today.

“Should you go talk to him?” Enjolras asks. He looks overly concentrated, bending down to match Grantaire’s height as he fusses with the bowtie around his neck. His tongue is only just sticking out of his mouth, something he does when he’s focused. Grantaire darts forward to kiss his cheek when he’s done.

“I handled the last freak out. It’s Courf’s turn.” He sighs and rubs his eyes. “I need more coffee. I don’t want to yawn during the ceremony.”

“Luckily I brought you some,” Enjolras says. He smiles, lighting up his face and the surrounding seventeen miles, and picks up the previously abandoned coffees that were thrown aside when he saw Grantaire fumbling with the bowtie.

Grantaire grins. “You are literally my favorite person. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” They clink their reusable cups together and take a sip at the same time. Enjolras eyes Grantaire for a long moment before he says, “I cannot _wait_ to get you out of this later.” His free hand is suddenly resting on Grantaire’s chest, sliding up and down in small motions that make Grantaire’s breath catch. “You look edible.”

“Thank Eponine. She refused to allow us to have basic black suits, hence the navy blue.”

“I will definitely thank her, when she’s done with her bridesmaid duties.” Enjolras bends down and plants a soft kiss on Grantaire’s lips. “You better go help Courfeyrac talk Marius down from climbing out a window to see Cosette and remind her that he loves her. I swear, he’s insane. Marriage will only make him worse.”

“In the best way,” Grantaire replies. “Go find your seat.”

When Grantaire turns to go back in their designated space, Enjolras lets out a low whistle. “Definitely thanking Eponine later.”

***

Courfeyrac and Combeferre are the next to announce their engagement. Courfeyrac has a beautiful silver band nestled on his ring finger and a gorgeous fiancé doing nothing but smiling down at him through his glasses. They look like they belong on a poster and Grantaire feels happy just looking at them. He immediately pulls out Combeferre’s sketchbook to start drawing them.

Everyone congratulates them, even Enjolras, the feared leader with no faith in marriage. It makes Grantaire smile. He knows that what he has is more than he ever thought he’d have, so he doesn’t need even more. It’s just nice to think about it sometimes.

He hugs Courfeyrac tightly and when he pulls back, he says, “I want you to be a groomsman. Combeferre claimed Enjolras as his best man and I promised Marius he could be my best man, but I want you to be a groomsman for me.”

“Of course.” He grins a positively sinful grin. “Now _this_ is a bachelor party I can’t wait to go to.”

Combeferre looks over and says, “No strippers.”

***

With all of their friends settling down and getting married, Grantaire takes another look at the shop by their apartment. They have a simple gold band with some intricate carvings that you have to squint to see. It reminds Grantaire of Enjolras–harsh at first glance, but delicate and wonderful under the surface. If he closes his eyes, he can see Enjolras wearing it and smiling.

On a whim, he purchases the ring.

When he gets home that night, he puts it with his art supplies. Enjolras never looks there.

*** 

After a particularly painful boxing session with Bahorel to get out the nerves from the tux fitting earlier with Courfeyrac, they stop at a convenience store to buy some waters and food. It’s late, the sun already setting in the sky, when Bahorel comes out of the gas station and tosses Grantaire a ring pop.

“Here, while I’m proposing to Feuilly tonight, you can give Enjolras a ring pop.”

Grantaire plays it off, but it really does hurt.

***

A few weeks later, after Feuilly and Bahorel have announced their engagement and Feuilly assures everyone it will be a long engagement, so they don’t have to worry about formalwear for a while, Grantaire’s mind goes back to the ring pop.

It actually may be a good way of testing the waters. Maybe he can gauge Enjolras’ reaction to an actual proposal.

He comes home that night with a ring pop tucked into his hoodie pocket and a bruise on his cheekbone from a nasty hit during boxing. After Enjolras fusses over the bruise marring his face for a while, he manages to get Grantaire to lay in the V of his legs, head resting on his shoulder while they curl up together on the couch. The television plays in the background, on mute and unnecessary.

Grantaire sighs, excessively dramatic and pulls away from Enjolras. He tucks his legs beneath him and sits in the cradle of Enjolras’ hips. “You know, I love you.”

Enjolras’ eyes light up, like every time he says it. “I love you, too.”

Grantaire brandishes the ring pop. “You should marry me.” He tries to feign a casual air to this whole thing, but he finds it hard.

A myriad of expressions play all over Enjolras’ face. He goes from shocked to confused to something undecipherable to affectionate with about a million in between in the span of a few seconds. His smile isn’t amused, though. It’s warm and honest and something hot clenches in Grantaire’s stomach.

“I would love to marry you, Grantaire,” he says sincerely.

He holds out his left hand and Grantaire is frozen to his spot on the couch.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras murmurs.

“Stay right here,” Grantaire chokes. He scrambles up from the couch and Enjolras moves to follow him. “No! Right here. Stay.” He points to the couch, absurdly thinking that he sounds like he’s commanding a dog, before he dashes off to get the actual ring. He digs in his art supplies until he finds the black box tucked behind a blank canvas.

He dashes back to the living room and Enjolras is still sitting on the couch, but he looks bewildered. He’s sitting up now, two feet on the floor and Grantaire kneels in between them, black box weighing close to a ton in his hand.

He says nothing, just opens the box and holds it out to Enjolras. Enjolras stares at it for a long time, mouth hanging open a little. His bemused eyes flit between the ring and Grantaire for a very long time.

Finally, desperate to break the silence, Grantaire says, “I thought this one might be slightly more appropriate.”

“Oh my god,” Enjolras says. He offers Grantaire his left hand again and when Grantaire carefully slides the ring on his finger, Enjolras tackles him to the ground, kissing him deeply with quite a bit of enthusiasm. “Oh my god, how long have you had that?”

“Two months,” Grantaire admits. He kisses Enjolras’ cheek and Enjolras groans, deep in his chest.

“I could’ve been having sex with my _fiancé_ for two whole months. I can’t believe you deprived me of my rights.”

Grantaire loves this man so much he might cry. “Well I mean, you can have sex with your fiancé right now if you want.”

Enjolras jerks against him and makes another wonderful noise. “We are going to the bedroom _right now_ and we are going to have the most sappy sex ever.”

“Shouldn’t we save that for the honeymoon?” Grantaire teases as Enjolras pulls him to his feet and towards the bedroom.

“Shut _up_.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is pessimistic prose you can send me prompts and also flirt with me and also head canons pls&thank


End file.
